


Silver Curiosity

by Deadly_Detective_Drew



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Follows the Books But Done Differently, Gellert Grindelwald Is Kinda Important, Gen, Golden Trio, Hogwarts Houses Change, I'm Terrible And Knowing Myself I'll Re-Write This Some Time In The Foreseeable Future, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Morally Grey Characters, Not Light Not Dark, Not Snape Friendly, Not So Friendly To Some Other Characters Either, Slytherin Harry Potter, They Are Team Grindelwald But That Comes Later, bamf golden trio, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22920469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadly_Detective_Drew/pseuds/Deadly_Detective_Drew
Summary: The Golden Trio grow up in some slightly different conditions than explicitly stated in the books, and they make some different choices. Having enough of being pushed aside by adults, the kids of Hogwarts say screw the manipulators and make their own futures.Insert Gellert Grindelwald, as he was before he was defeated, and perhaps his vision for the future of humanity should have been taken a little more seriously.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my google translated Italian, I apologize.

Ron Bilius Weasley knew that to be the 6th son, and second youngest was nothing special, growing up in the Weasley household only enforced this notion. He wasn't special. Not to his parents, not to the teachers he would meet, but his eyes shone with loyalty to his passions and a strange fascination swum in his gaze. Ron would be Special

Hermione Jean Granger, possessing a thirst for knowledge that rivalled scholars, Hermione had no interest in being normal, she was drunk on knowledge her fires burned with the books she had consumed and her eyes shone with a mad flicker, she had no intention of slowing down for anyone else's comfort.

Harry James Potter, raised by the Dursleys and taught to hide his fear, hide his pain, hide his suffering. Falling into a world where everyone knows his name and has expectations of him, Harry crushes those expectations with a scary smile and empty eyes, this world abandoned him why should he settle for the hero, instead he would be great.

* * *

A single man in a torn and battered brown coat stood, shoulders hunched in front of two empty graves, their respective occupants sitting aside their eternal resting place.

Remus choked out a few words as though it would do his friends justice, “He’s dead James… the rest of the world’s going nuts, Harry did it. Your son, I know you would be proud… and Lily- Dear god… Lily, you both fought so goddamn well. I just-.” He cut himself off with a cry “I’m going to miss you so much, it's just not fair!... It’s not fair…”

He had fallen to his knees by the end of his words, and let the sobs wracked his body, alone at the foot of his friends' graves. Consumed with more emotions than he could ever remember feeling, he wept for all he had lost... and he was alone.

Night had fallen long ago when Remus shoulders finally stopped shaking, a tired look replaced the tears and he wordlessly waved his wand, lifting the caskets and placing them in their graves, dirt piled on top, sealing them forever in the earth and Remus’s mind felt a flash of hatred at the lack of witness to this painful moment.

There had been no funeral.

Remus had been out of the country when he had heard the news of Voldemort's demise. The ministry had been cracking down on all possible threats, not wanting to be caught as a half-breed, Remus had left to help as much as he could elsewhere, so he had head of the news from a paper found on the wizarding streets of Mirto, his breath had caught at the headline “POTTER IL RAGAZZO DEFORMA IL SIGNORE SCURO” and his mind translated the words as quickly as he could, scanning the paper rapidly “POTTER BOY DEFEATS DARK LORD” The article mainly talked about the miracle of Harry surviving and Remus if he had much presence of mind left, felt some relief at that, but it wasn't until the end that he let himself truly think what it all meant. There in print were the words "-James and Lily Potter were unfortunately not among the miracles that night, their deaths mark the end of the war and the beginning of a new age-” Remus dropped the paper and apparated.

He appeared at Godric's Hollow to find the house in ruins, but as he ran inside the place was fairly clean for all its destruction. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for when he bolted up the stairs, and he found himself alone with blackened walls.

His eyes caught on a photograph knocked out of place and he reached down to grab it. Turning it over revealed all four of his best friends on their last day of school, Sirius rubbing his knuckles in James hair while the other shrieked in dismay, Lily kissing Peter on the check and Peter responding with a delighted smile and pulling the younger witch into a hug, Remus remembers taking the photo and an unknown tear escaped his eye. Sirius, always annoyingly perceptive, had silently saddled up to him and casually pulled him into a one armed hug brushing the tear away as he went, “Not crying for me I hope Moony.”

The tears left his eyes this time did not go unnoticed and Remus let out a soundless scream, the noise getting stuck in his throat as the realization of what had happened fully hit him.

Remus had sort out Dumbledore after that, the whereabouts of the Potter's bodies was unknown to him, as was the date of their funeral. When he had cornered the older wizard in his office he offered his help any way he could, after all he hadn’t been there when his friends were murdered, he hadn't been there. The words ran around and around his head and were sharply broken by the next words his old headmaster spoke.

“-no Funeral.”

“What?” The word was said with only bafflement, why would there be no funeral unless- “Does their insurance not cover it, oh, of course! the money is Harry’s now, he’ll be needing it-”

“-Remus…” Dumbledore tried to interrupt

A panicked thought hit Remus, then who would pay for it, he barely had enough to live or let alone pay for a funeral the things were unexplainably expensive. Another idea came to Remus and he nearly squirmed at the thought of asking another for money, but no, this isn't about him, it was for his friends and he would be damned if he let his pride get in the way.

Squaring his shoulders he prepared himself to ask “Dumbledore, I know it’s a terrible thing to ask, but I can’t make the funds for a funeral, I promise I would pay you back, I could even do it in writing if you’d like, I-”

“Mr Lupin.” Remus paused letting his old professor speak “In light of these tragic events the world is just beginning to recover and rejoice at the loss of a darkness, I do not think it would be wise to throw a shadow over everyone's attempts to return to normality.”

Remus’s confusion must have shone through because Dumbledore gave him a pitting expression like he was a child who just couldn’t grasp the gravity of a situation and was about to be told to wait until they were older.

“Mr Lupin, there is not going to be a Funeral for Lily and James Potter, the world does not need to be reminded of the negativity passed, their bodies will be brought to their graves by Madam Pomfrey after she has finished her examination and then they will be put to rest, I am sorry Remus.”

Remus felt the apology as a kick to the gut and yet he still could not fully understand, his best friends were not being given a burial, a goodbye, because their death was too dark for the world to think about? The past years all the world had known was death now it was a forbidden subject? Remus snarled and his rage at all the injustice and hurt finally surfaced, his hate for the loss of his friends, his knowledge of the fight between his other last two remaining friends resulting in another loss of life and Sirius… He struggled not to think along that path and instead let himself scream at the professor while the other only continued to look on calmly.

When Remus truly believed it would not be wise for him to remain in a vicinity with another person, let alone the professor, he stormed away and found himself at his old apartment he had briefly shared with Sirius, here he let out all the rage he had held back in Dumbledore's office.

Once calm he apparated to the Godric Hollow gravesite and in the beating down of the burning sun, he waited.

oooOOOooo

Once Remus had cried all his tears for the past he turned his mind to the future and was ashamed to realise he hadn’t thought of Harry more than once, resolved to fix that immediately he found himself heading to Dumbledore one again, this time much more composed.

Even when Dumbledore informed him of Harry's current whereabouts he didn’t let himself lash out, he only logically listed all the reasons he was a better guardian than Petunia.

Petunia, he had meet the other Evan’s three times in his life before. Once when he had just finished his first year at Hogwarts and his parents needed to leave for 2 weeks during the summer holidays, as soon as Lily had found out, she offered to let him stay at hers, he had made sure not to let his other friends know, not wanting to inconvenience them so he never did find out how she knew, but neither the less the Evans had made a bed for him in their home and it was something he never forgot.

That was the first time he had meet Petunia, she had come across instantly as someone he would ordinarily fear, if a wizard possessed the personality she did and if they ever found out he was a werewolf they would be the ones carrying pitchforks, he made sure to stay clear of the girl and keep his head down as much as possible for those two weeks.

The second time was for Lily's 14th birthday, she had invited them all over to hers for the summer and although he didn’t stay the whole time, having to lie about his mother being sick, Lily had given him a knowing look and a gentle brush on his arm right along one of his scars, Petunia had seen and started sneering, sporting out every accusation she could think of.

The third time was a little over a few years ago when Lily had excitedly asked him over to help her choose which dress to wear for Petunia’s wedding, only for Petunia to burst into the room in an outrage, declaring she would not be having a freak at her wedding and that it washer chance at a new start away from all Lily’s weirdness. Remus had held Lily as she cried and he remembered feeling a sharp resentment toward the brunette girl who caused his friend so much pain with her hateful words, it was a toxic relationship and one Lily was forced to grow up with.

It was those thoughts that kept him from giving up on becoming Harry’s guardian, He wouldn’t leave his friend's child to grow up in a toxic environment, even if it meant he had to raise the kid himself, no matter how unfit he may be, he was better than that woman.

And so Remus went to the ministry. But no matter how good of a friend he had been to Harry’s parents, blood relations trumped all else, except Godparents, which of course Sirius had been named.

And so Remus let Dumbledore talk him out of trying to move Harry, citing Harry needing to grow up in the muggle world, and using Remus’s werewolf status as another reason Harry was in better care that Remus could provide. Knowing it was an argument he would never win short of stealing the boy away from his new guardians and then evading Dumbledore, Remus moved on to another issue that had been bothering him. Sirius.

“Professor Sirius- he-, He loved James! He loved him! And Lily… dear god and little Harry, Sirius Love them all they were his family and…”

“Sometimes the thing right in front of us, is the hardest thing to accept.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Dumbledore frowned as if Remus was being a particularly troublesome child, “Remus, Sirius was their secret keeper, James told me himself that he had chosen Sirius.

“-When’s his trial?”

Dumbledore sighed “Mr Lupin, do not pursue this, I know you and Sirius were close.”

Remus paced “What if he’s innocent, what if the trial comes back and Sirius is innocent, then Harry can live with Sirius and I, and we can go into the muggle world and raise him away from all magic and his fame..”

“A fantasy world.”

And with those few words Remus broke down crying again, on the floor of Dumbledore's study he sobbed as Dumbledore softened his voice and told him to let it go.

And so Remus went abroad again, unable to stay in England while the world remained in shambles and the wizards of Europe pretended everything was suddenly fixed. Remus worked on Wizarding and half-bread relations knowing that when everything was broken and being repaired was the best time to gain freedom in rewrites of laws and such. He remained traveling for several years, but he marked a day in his calendar, the day James and Lily’s son would start his first day at Hogwarts, he planned to return to England on that day.

oooOOOoo 

In a grimy stone block, caged by rusted bars and guarded by his very nightmares, 21 year old Sirius Black rammed his fist into his mouth to muffle his cries, regret and guilt falling down his cheeks, he had lost everything, his best friend, His godchild, Lily... Remus, god Remus, Remus though he had killed James, murder Lily and Harry. Another sob left him and the thought stung enough that it pierced through the numb sadness that filled him as soon as he had been chucked into the hellhole he was to call home.

Peter. How could he have not known, hatred filled him at the name yet he couldn’t make it stay long, not like after he had tracked him down, not like when Peter blew up the street, cause for sure he had been laughing with pure hatred in that moment but now, when it had finally sunk in he felt a great swell of pain too, because… Peter had been their friend, and now they were all gone, because he had convinced James to choose Peter instead. Sirius had killed the Potters, and so when no trial had waited him but the cold bars of his cell, he made no fuss, he knew he was guilty, just like Peter... if not more.

oooOOOooo

Howells came from a small man crouched against his knees in the sewer but it was not due to the loss of a finger that he cried, he cried for the loss of everything he had known and any love he had ever been given, the look in Sirius’s eye when he had hunted him would haunt his dreams for years to come, not because of the rage in his snarl, but the wild anguish in his eyes, his betrayal reflected back at him. Sirius had convinced James to choose Peter, Peter let out another cry, Sirius would never forgive himself, and neither would Peter.

He looked to his missing finger and couldn’t help but agree with the sorting hat in that moment, he would have fit in with Slytherin, it was a cunning thing to do, fake his own death even at the expense of his finger, yet he did not believe he ever belonged in Slytherin, but then where did he belong, certainly not Gryffindor, house of the Chivalrous and Brave, his mind flashed to the terror he had begin to feel shocking inside and drowning him whole, for a few year now, his friends and the darkened abyss of Fear had been all he had known, now it was just the fear. 

No, he didn’t belong in Gryffindor anymore, but he had once, and it was memories of his nerve to nick Professor McGonagall’s master key, memories of his daring to climb on top of the Gryffindor tower to fasten a broomhandle to the top, so Sirius could declare Gryffindor’s tower the tallest tower, memories of himself gathering the courage to ask Mary Macdonald to dance at the Halloween party, those memories gave him the strength to transform into the animal that had helped his closest friend during times of the month Remus knew nothing but pain, he gathered his memories of a better time and a better self and he scuttled away, hiding from the shame of his actions.

oooOOOooo

A chuckle came from a man with wilting, stained hair that would once have been an electric white. Far away in Nurmengard, an old Wizard whispered his final spell and watched in fascination as his effort over years came to light, the strange few objects placed strategically in the room resembles the shape of an hourglass and as the words were whispered, the magic glowed bright blue and slowly the symbol drained the life from the once powerful wizard.

A ministry official announced the death of Gellert Grindelwald and the world rejoiced as two dark wizards had left the world, what the others did not know, was that across the lake that surrounded the heavily guarded prison, a sister symbol glowed and the life force from Gellert Grindelwald drained into a shadow which slowly begin to resemble the man the papers remembered, white hair once again dancing with magic. _Oh, he had much to do._


	2. Chapter 2

A mop of raven hair bobbed across a dirty flower bed, Harry worked diligently and humming a gentle tune to himself, he had heard it from the living room when Dudley had been watching a show and the tune stayed. He had snuck a look at the Television when he was sure he wouldn't be caught and saw the words Looney Tunes in bold lettering across the screen followed by a funny rabbit. He had stayed and watched the cartoon even though it was risking being caught, and he had stayed right up until Dudley, apparently finding the show distasteful, had switched channels. Still the tune stuck, it was a happy sound and secretly it was a sound he had decided to play every time his mind went to the place when Uncle Vernon decided he needed punishing.

Harry though he might like a garden in his house when he was older, he hated gardening when Aunt Petunia made him do it, she always made him stay out for hours in the hot sun, and he would come back dirty, very hot and also so tired, he would then always be told off for being slow, but he could never help it, the heat just took all his energy, and then the punishment would come.

But Harry liked the process of gardening in the cool mornings when it was still slightly dark and no one was around, it was an escape of sorts, or as much one as he could get.

“BOY!”

Harry hesitated, that was no doubt him who was being summoned, and with his current muddy state, a bit of panic filled him, he shouldn’t be needed to make lunch for two hours and he had made sure to do all his chores before sneaking out…

He sucked in a breath and pretended it was a secret breath of air that would make him brave, of course he shouldn’t be thinking anything like that, it was strange and the Dursleys hated strange.

He trudged back into the house and immediately Uncle Vernon was on him, he didn’t hear what he was in trouble for this time, it could have been anything, the mud, something Dudley had done, not being quite enough. Anything.

A whimper left his lips, as the hippo of a man swiped his shoe across Harry’s face, blood dribbled down his chin and his head whipped to the side, he dared not look up at the fuming face of his Uncle.

The words of abuse followed the swing, but Harry wasn't listening, the 7-year old had taken himself far away from the fear that held him to his Uncle, he was free in a forest far away, the tree were so old and creaked as though acknowledging his presence, a magpie croaked from one of the branches and Harry felt his muscles relax and the shape of the dark forest chilled the fire in his skin, like the aftermath of a storm.

He was drawn from his haven as his world abruptly shifted, Uncle Vernon had grabbed the front of his baggy waistband and dragged him up from his knees to throw him face down on the couch, the man never released Harry's pants and he knew what would happen next. Harry bit into the couch cushion and desperately tried to return to his forest, a piercing pain from behind caused his scream to rip right through the cushion and Uncle Vernon’s meaty hand to clamp tight to his jaw, with a sharp hiss to shut up and another muffled scream from the boy, Harry ran to the treeline behind his clenched eyelids.

oooOOOooo

Hermione Jean Granger, the young girl wrote her name out in an elegant scrawl. Hermione Jean Granger wrote it out again, and again, that was her name, and the 7-year old would not forget it, no matter that her parents had never told it to her, they called her a girl, or they called her a freak, never her name. But she knew it was her name because she had read it on the roll at school. Everyone at school just called her Jeanie, how she hated that. Her name was Hermione, Hermione. No one bothered to learn how to say her name, it was apparently too difficult for the teachers to remember.

“Yes Jeanie, I do have your name right here, but we do have an awful lot of kids' names to learn, you know. How many kids are in your class?”

“24 but-”

“And how many classes do I teach?”

“3 but Mrs-”

“And how many childrens names is that, Jeanie?

Hermione bristled “72, but it really isn’t that difficult I could teach-”

“I think you will find that I am the teacher here Miss Granger and If you don’t learn to cut out that cheek you will find this year to be rather unpleasant.”

Hermione clenched her jaw at the memory and wrote her name again, she knew who she was, she was Hermione, she loved the colour orange the most, her favorite book was the Odyssey, but she had to change it to Matilda in her profile the teachers made them do about themselves, apparently if Hermione performed to the best of her ability in class then it would make the other children upset, she wasn’t sure what liking a classic had to do with that, yet for all her smarts Hermione rarely understood adults logic. 

  
  


Tracey’s voice called from across the classroom further proving Hermione’s point. “Hey Teenie Tiny Jeanie, Big Toothed Meanie.” The other girl sang the words with a fake pout to her lip sticking it out to resemble one who was about to cry, Hermione knew she was about to be payed back for her stunt yesterday.

Hermione had gotten sick of Jason’s teasing and threw a hardcopy of the Iliad at his face in a fit of rage, she thought she rather resembled an angry goddess herself, Hermione much preferred that comparison to Matilda anyway.

It was lunchtime and the teacher’s schedule said Mrs Godsteind should be heading their way any moment, not wanting to stay seated on the picnic table, Hermione quickly shoved the paper in her pocket and stood facing the other girl, very aware of Jason saddling up behind her, and his other goons boxing her in.

She ignored Tracey but her hand was clenched as tightly as her jaw, if Tracey dared to invade her space today, Hermione would lash out, anger was a companion of hers, she preferred it to others her age anyway. Unfortunately, Jason and his friends were another problem, she doubted she could take them all but she gritted her jaw and haughtily stuck up her nose before sealing her own fate.

“I see you learn rhyming today Tracey, tomorrow you may even grasp reading.”

She just got the sentence out before she felt one of Jason’s friends grab at her arm and the blur of Tracey’s open palm fit her across the face. Snarling like an animal Hermione did one better, violently wrenching the boy off her right arm she used her left to sock a flurry of knuckles into Tracey, she continued to lash out. however, the element of surprise was quickly rendered useless and with three boys holding her back, Tracey paced in front of her, swiping her nail across Hermione’s face, Hermione was unable to avoid getting a sharp sting in her eyes and she let out a whale as her vision went in that eye but she could feel blood fall down her cheek.

Her remaining sight saw Mrs Godsteind standing at the other end of the playground watching impassively as Jason slammed his elbow into her head. Hermione sagged only held up by the other two boys, who quickly let go and she tilted forward, her last sight was of Mrs Godsteind walking away before unconsciousness took hold.

oooOOOooo

A shock rattled the pecuriously constructed house that sat on a grassy plane and a shout followed right after, “Oh, _DO_ be careful Fred and George! I’ll not have you destroying the house!”

“It wasn’t us!” Came the twin reply but Mrs Weasley seemed not to care for their response and tottled off to finish with dinner.

Ron huffed at the yelling bellow. It could never have been him, no, it wasn’t that his parents didn’t think him a troublemaker like the twins, they just didn’t think of him, it would never cross their minds that their 6th child would be up to something he doubted he they thought of him much at all.

Trying not to let his annoyance ruin his ritual, Ron turned back to his task, sitting cross legged on the floor of the attic he drew a knife over the back of his forearm and let the blood run into a metal bowl, the drops made a ping every time they landed and once the bowl had got enough to completely cover the bottom he grabbed an old rag and wrapped it around his arm.

He pushed the blood forward so the bowl was in the centre of the ring he had created with various other objects. A broken hand from an old clock he had found while with his father on a trip into the nearest muggle town, an old salt shaker her mother had gone to throw away, now filled with the old skins of cicadas, and a washer he stole from his father's garage made up the circle. With a clear and precise voice he spoke the words he had carefully written down and practiced again, and again. 

“Coniungere ad sanguinem, a sanguine attrahunt.” The latin flowed out of his mouth in an intoxicating way, he loved the way the words formed and secretly he much prefered the language to English, it was far easier to understand.

Bounding down the stairs he raced out into the garden to see if it had worked. Taking a breath he exhaled then moved closer to the garden bed and with his eyes still closed he begun to catch gnomes and make a pile. The ritual had magnetized his arm in a sort of way, he had gotten the idea after he had spotted a muggle with a strange metal rod on the beach, he had left his family and went to ask the man what it was, thankful the elder gentlemen seemed to take great delight in explaining the mechanism, it was called a metal detector and Ron had successfully made a gnome detector from his very own arm.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long had passed but a few hours for sure, if the lowering sun was anything to go by, Ron decided to stop then and happily glowed at his squirming pile of Gnomes, quite a few had bolted back but he had worked enough to make up for it. He decided to call his mother over before they all ran away.

She shouted back that she would be a minute.

“Oh are you degnoming?”

One of the twins demanded, while the other one reached out as if to grab one, but he was still in the doorway so Ron deduced he was much to far, then the most peculiar thing happened, three gnomes lifted in the air as if a ghost had grabbed them by the back leg and threw them up and over the fence.

A few gasps came from the house and the unmistakable sound of Mrs Weasley’s voice sounded. “Oh Fred! You just did some accidental magic, and suddenly Mr Weasley was right there as well, Ron distantly heard one of the twins proclaim it was George who did it while the other argued back, but Ron's eyes were solely on his small mountain of gnomes which was quickly becoming smaller.

Ron blinked furiously to keep his eyes from stinging as they teared up, but he stubbornly refused to cry, about garden gnomes of all things. He stood and silently watched until the last gnome made its way back, the others had yet to stop fussing over the twins and Ron, deciding he’d had enough for the day, made his way upstairs to the attic, he crawled into bed and tried not to think of all the effort he had put in to impress his mother, only for her to not even notice his disappeared after calling her.

The ghoul he shared the attic with was quiet, and Ron liked to think that just for that moment someone understood the importance of the moment he had missed.

Ron didn’t make it down to dinner and as the night fell he knew no one had noticed. Just as his eyes slipped shut long hair tickled his nose and a body wriggled under his arms. His eyes snapped open to see his little sister tucked into his front, a dip in the bed followed by another had Fred and George curling up behind him. No one said a word and none were needed, they all understood, all too well.

“One day I’ll do something special,” Whispered Ron a little bit of emotion leaking into his voice “-Just you wait.”

A voice from behind responded moments later “You are something special Ron.”

He fell asleep to the sight of a sandwich on his dresser, unmistakably made by the youngest Weasley, and maybe in that moment he believed... just a little.


End file.
